Page 8 of Hunting Gianna
But I don’t want to move. It’s terrifying out there.
The longer I sit, the harder it gets. Harder and clearer and undeniable. A cold rush of dread that will drown me before it freezes me if I wait too long. My breath fogs the windshield, a blur of wet uncertainty, and it’s more than I can handle. More than I can let in. I shove the door open with all my strength, fighting against the fear of being out here, as I grab the door frame and haul myself into the rain.
I don’t have much left, but I know what I do have. A body that works and a body that will stop working if I don’t find proper shelter.
Pine Ridge Retreat. It can't be far, and I can't be this far gone. Maybe I'm wrong about that too. But maybe not. Maybe not, and that's why I keep running. I need to try.
My body moves without my mind, taking me deeper into a darkness that leaves me guessing. There should be a trail but I don't see it. I can barely see three fucking feet in front of me. Mud pulls at my feet, trying to pull me into the earth. Almost as if it’s resisting my intrusion on its private moment of rage.
Lost.
My boots slip and so does my mind, my perfectly weak and human mind, until there is only the raw fucking truth left. If I can’t find Pine Ridge, I need to find ranger station, or some kind of shelter. and fast.
And that's why I let all the fear slip away. All of it except the hope, the pure goddamn hope that there is a dirt road waiting, one that will take me to where I need to be.The power of the mind. Manifesting safety. Yes, yes that’s what I’m doing. Something will show and I’ll get to safety.
The forest presses close around me, dark trees creaking as they fight the strength of the wind. The rain is heavy. It bruises my skin as it pelts me.
Each breath cuts my lungs as sharp as the wet branches cutting my face and I just keep running. One foot in front of the other.Maybe I’ll die out here.
Thoughts keep racing through my mind and I don’t know if I can handle it.
Things like this fear.
Things like this hope.
Somehow I’m staving off the concern that I still haven’t found shelter, with the knowledge that I will. I just need to keep trying.
The rain's coming hard and heavy. Sheets of it blur my vision. I don't care. I keep going, breath short and wild, mud up to my knees. A rush, a break, I lose my footing, catch myself, palms raw and bloody as I crash onto the ground. I push forward, desperate. Light flashes through the trees, cracking loudly against the silence.
I inhale and swallow water instead of air, my lungs working overtime just to keep up. Fuck. I choke. Stumble again, my knees hitting the ground, rocks tearing at my skin.
The storm gets louder, wind screaming like a lost god, tree branches bashing against each other, as one cracks and falls in front of me, blocking my path.Fuck. Desperation seeps in.How long has it been?
Damn, this is taking forever. Even my endurance has limits, has limits and beyond, but I won't let this little storm be one of them. The need to push forward outweighs the exhaustion in my thighs.
I feel like I might float away.
Something flashes through the dark. A light. And it’s not lightning.
My saving grace.
I keep going.
One more, one more step. I can taste it. The light doesn't lie.Fight through the burn, breathe. One… two…
I’m right there… so close, I can almost feel the heat from where I’m stumbling. My legs tremble, and my vision blurs. Safety is just a few meters ahead, but my body refuses to cooperate. It wants to collapse. I stumble, heart racing, breath tearing through my throat. I’m almost there. It looms before me, dark and menacing, its edges smearing into the stormy backdrop. I sway; each step feels like a hard-won prize, each one a promise that I can do this, that I can make it. But my muscles betray me, refusing to keep moving. My brain feels foggy, too heavy to think clearly. My fingers are turning purple, my lips numb.
So… close… don’t stop.
A shadow moves by the window and I can’t tell if it’s real.Does someone live here?I'm too far gone to know if it's real or care about it anymore. Suddenly, my legs give out beneath me, and I crawl the last few feet on trembling arms, eyes fluttering shut as everything closes in around me while the rain pours relentlessly down. I collapse against the steps with an exhausted thud.
The door swings open, its edges sharp and bright against the darkness outside. Hands grip my shoulders gently but firmly; they draw me up and pull me inside. I'm too drained to feel anything else—too exhausted even for fear—as the warmth of the cabin envelops me.
Finally… I can rest.
Darkness eats at my consciousness and claims me as my body sinks into safety.
Chapter Four
